that they were the old Wrightsville
Beach or Wilmington people. And
just hearing them talk and tell
stories was fascinating. The saddest
day was when they took it down,
when it went away as Newell’s.”
Around the same time,
Wrightsville Beach residents
Elizabeth King and her brother,
Michael Brown, were also sitting
on the bar stools at the soda foun-tain.
They grew up on the beach,
visiting Newell’s in the 1950s and
’60s. They remember ordering
Cokes with squirts of vanilla or
cherry syrup to wash down their
grilled pimento cheese or chicken
salad sandwiches.
As full-time residents of the
beach, King and her brother recall
desolate winters when the tourists
had all left and the summertime
buzz had faded away and Newell’s
was one of the only places open.
They both enjoyed leafing
through the comic books. King
would read “Archie” and her
brother was crazy about “MAD
Magazine.” Brown says Lester
Newell’s mother used to keep an
eye on the children from the sec-ond-
floor landing, making sure they
weren’t horsing around or spending
too much time in the comic books
section.
In addition to riding to Newell’s
on their bikes by themselves, King
and Brown remember why Sunday
nights at the store were so special.
“Every Sunday, we had a big
lunch in the middle of the day,”
King explains. “Well, by the end
of the day, my mother wasn’t going
to cook twice, so my father would
take my brother and me up to
Newell’s, and we got to pick our
own pint of ice cream to eat, all by
ourselves.”
Brown says this Newell’s ritual
has become a bit of family lore.
From top: Nancy Crow at
Newell’s in the late 1930s.
Photo taken from the
second story balcony at
Newell’s, where Lester
Newell’s mother would
keep an eye on the visiting
children. A 1964 exterior
view of Newell’s.
27
COURTESY ELIZABETH KING
BILL CREASY COLLECTION, WRIGHTSVILLE BEACH MUSEUM OF HISTORY
BILL CREASY COLLECTION, WRIGHTSVILLE BEACH MUSEUM OF HISTORY
www.wrightsvillebeachmagazine.com WBM